Finding Solace In What Comes After
Content Warning: Death, Suicide
Death is a fascinating notion, no matter the lens you approach it with. Death can be envisioned as a cloaking being keeping tabs on our predetermined ticking clocks. As an ideology, it can spur conceptualizations of a potential afterlife, or even lack thereof. In turn, the thought of ending up in a heaven or a hell upon death can completely shape an individual's life. Some, such as myself, perceive death without such vibrant characterizations taught in religion and mythologies. In its purest form, as cliche as it is, death is simply the bookend to life; an inevitability that is impossible to avoid, nor one we cannot possibly see beyond once met.
It’s an inevitability we as a species have always embraced in our own unique fashions; fear, acceptance, relief, maliciousness. Something I believe we all have in common is learning how to use the inevitability to gain a genuine sense of cherishing life; encompassing the complexity of our surroundings, those we may have lost, and ourselves. There’s no correct way to come to terms with the concept, hence why so many of us struggle on a daily basis. But as I rolled credits on What Comes After from Pikselnesia, that consistent gnawing in the back of my mind became a bit easier to face.
What Comes After follows Vivi, a young woman who accidentally finds herself on a train among the recently deceased en route to what lies beyond the living realm. Unable to return home before the train reaches its destination, she is given two options by the train’s spectral conductor: return to her seat and wait patiently, or speak with the passengers to help pass the time. The latter is encouraged, as the conductor senses internal struggle and implies Vivi may gain something from honest conversations. The internal struggle becomes abundantly clear to the player, as we learn through internal thought Vivi has been considering taking her own life; so much so that her reaction to potentially being dead already is quite nonchalant. Throughout the various conversations, Pikselnesia shares brutally beautiful takes on abrupt endings, the repercussions of losing a loved one, and living in the moment. All themes are expressed in brilliant fashion, allowing the player to interpret in either direction; referring to someone lost, or internally.
What Comes After provides the player with insurmountable lessons and perspectives all within a tight hour experience. There are two themes in particular which initially triggered anxiety, but left me feeling a bit lighter on the other side; the complicated loss of a loved one, and accepting you for you. After losing my father to cancer and leaving much resentment unresolved, the sense of feeling completely lost and burdened never left. In turn, this was the first of many fallen dominos to take a massive toll on my mental health. Therapy has always met me with rejection, abuse, and ridicule. Opening up to those I inherently trust has boomeranged into not being taken seriously. It became easier to hypothesize a world without me in it rather than actively be present. In times of dire emptiness, What Comes After is a simply presented resource I wish I had access to in my darkest days - but one I’m eternally grateful to experience now.
Pikselnesia handles death with care, sharing the perspectives of a wide range of living beings. Taking the time in crafting a wider net to cast aids in catching the attention of an array of unique players. The view that captured my heart was one of a baby. Engaging with the character, the innocence of this life taken far too soon is thoughtfully exaggerated. The child is woefully unknowing of not only the situation they’re currently in, but what they left behind. Tragic in quite the serene sense, of course, but there was something here in particular that broke me. There was the overlying sense that despite life being cut so short and not truly grasping they’re current state, they knew they were unequivocally loved. Mirroring my own experiences with my father, this interaction reinforced the idea that despite anything, my father knew he was loved.
The true excellence in the portrayal of death is in tone. While Vivi serves as our vessel experiencing what is typically sought as terrifying and dark, each and every encounter with passengers is met with positivity. There is solace in discovering that death didn’t hurt and the suffering is over. Missing loved ones is flipped into being excited to see those who have previously passed once again, or the hope and anticipation of seeing those still living later down the road. While simple notions and possibly obvious for some, these are outlooks that can be heavily overlooked in times of utter grief.
On the other end of the spectrum, What Comes After tackles what it may mean to consider taking your own life as well. Each of the interactions speak on the impact we all have on one another, but there are two key moments where Pikselnesia aims to be more direct. In a strange Christmas Carol comparison, the game does an intelligent job of having the player reflect on the past, present, and future in terms of impact and pure happiness. The first comes wrapped in a scene where a character utilizes Vivi’s sense of taste to trigger fond memories inherently unique to her, providing her with a prime example of why life is so blissful. The second comes in a more blunt final interaction, where a character questions Vivi on her thought-process: Has anyone given you the idea that you’re a burden? How would your absence impact the lives around you? With practicality comes clarity, and Vivi begins to find validity.
Both moments serve as critical reminders to take a step back and take an open, honest glance into life. Many of us, myself included, allow ourselves to be overwhelmed in negativity and forget to breathe. In turn, we can quickly begin to suffocate; sometimes to the point of no return. Discovering self-validation is challenging, not to mention in addition to our daily hardships. It’s easy to overthink and spiral down into the fog. When you don’t have someone to toss you the rope, you become stuck. With two simple moments, Pikselnesia crafted a thought-piece to trigger an instant serotonin boost in rediscovering cherished moments from the past, as well as tools to aid in the self-validation process.
All of this is to say that What Comes After displays the importance of modern video games in spades. Like other indie titles in recent memory, it's a therapeutic experience that can have a massive first-hand impact; particularly for those such as myself who don’t know where else to turn or have exhausted all other options. It is wild to stop and think what a small remote team of developers in Indonesia can achieve on such a personal level. There is beauty in simplicity, and I have not experienced a better, more accessible portrayal of death and cherishing life that spoke to me.
For those who feel lost, broken, or null, What Comes After serves as a wonderful initial step towards finding a sense of soundness and bliss.
Written by Mike Towndrow